Want a balloon?

What a promising greeting that awaited me inside the next room.

My feet stood upon a weathered walkway. Large cracks trailed along the rust colored bricks. At the end of one of the cracks, an inhuman footprint lay imbedded in the pavement. Popcorn and cotton candy littered the ground. Taking a deep breath, I could smell the scent of the butter basking the carnival treat. 

A rainbow of lights flickered to life, illuminating the carnival rides all around me. Groans of the corroded hinges cried for oil as they turned. The lights moved, painting the grey pavement with a spectrum of colors.

Closing my eyes, I felt myself drift down memory lane. I could feel the unlimited ride band cutting off the circulation of my wrist. I always used to try to rip that orange plastic off at the end of the night, but it would only get twisted and tighter around my wrist. The scissors were my only hope.

The Tilt-A-Whirl was a family favorite. Mother and Father always sat beside me while I was wedged in the middle like the stuffing of an Oreo. The G-force pulling at my stomach always made me giggle like two gossiping girls. My giggles always became an infectious disease that spread to my parents. By the time the ride was over, our bellies ached from the laughter.

Then there was the dreaded Heart Dropper, stretching a whopping thirteen stories high. A slow, suspenseful climb to the top ending with a terrifying out of body experience as you fell to what seemed to be your death, only to have the brakes activate at the last second. Whoever designed that ride was a sick person. But the rush of adrenaline always kept me going back.

I floated down memory lane like Glinda the Good Witch floating in her bubble, until a loud noise popped the fragile shell and I came tumbling back to reality.

My eyes shot open.

A scratch, like a needle on a record player, sounded, followed shortly by the familiar tune of a carnival waltz. The music sounded distorted, as if it had been slowed down and played at different times on two different record  players. The eerie music carried throughout the park, running with the broken horses on the carousel and spinning with the shattered teacups.

In the distance, a figure stood under a spotlight waving. Rust colored shoes lay on its feet, busting open at the toe, exposing long black claws. Polka-dotted, bell-bottom trousers wrapped around the figure's legs, held up by a sunflower belt around the waist. Large patches of blood stained the material. Holes exposed the grey flesh lurking underneath. Above the wilted sunflower, a puffed-up, polka-dotted top stretched up to the neck and down to the wrists. Three eyeballs sat where buttons normally would. Three, lengthy claw marks ripped the shirt diagonally. The grey skin underneath appeared reptilian-like. On top its head, orange hair blazed like a raging fire.

Great, just great.

"Are you gonna offer me a balloon and say I'll float? If you do, I swear I'll sue you for copyright infringement."

The creature said nothing. Instead it kept waving its long talons back and forth.

"Survive the rides and live." The voice was Allison's, but again the blue aura appeared in my sight.

"Who's the clown?" I asked.

"Fred."

"Wait... you are telling me this ugly, demonic looking Ronald McDonald reject is named Fred?"

"It's short for Killafredice."

And for the first time, in a long while, I laughed. I laughed like I was a kid watching Saturday morning cartoons. I know I should have taken the situation seriously. There was a killer clown waiting to tear my heart out with one swipe of its hand. But the name Fred was not what I expected the demon clown to be named.

"You joke now, but Fred has ended many jesters such as yourself. Your first ride is to your left. Fred will be waiting."

With a pop, the Blue Woman vanished before my eyes.

Looking to my left, the carousel spun a little slower, enticing me forward. Knowing I had to play the house's cruel game, I walked forward.  Unlike the carousels from my childhood, this one had seen better days. Most of the horse's heads lay in ruins on the floor. The few that had heads wore expressions of pure terror. The eyes of the horses opened wide, bulging out of the molds. Like everything else in this house of many horrors, dried blood stained the broken horses and the poles supporting them.

Fissures spanned across the glass of the mirrors in the center. I could see my broken reflection. I looked awful. If a truck had ran me over, then backed up, then ran over me again, I still would have looked better than I currently did.

Moving closer to my reflection, I saw the scrapes and bruises in the limelight. I didn't know what I was more scared of, the killer clown, or Allison's wrath when I returned home looking like this. 

"Even Allison's uncle Frank looks better than me," I whispered to my image. An image of his crooked nose and missing teeth popped in my mind.

"Take a seat, Trevor." My reflection responded.

"Oh great, I'm talking to myself now. As you command, your evilness." I looked around at the grim horses.  A pale, yellow one stood out to me near the edge. Shrugging, I walked over to the disfigured equestrian.

Placing my foot in the holster, I hopped onto the ride.

"I am the fifth horseman of the apoc—" A large blade shot up from the saddle, nearly missing my crotch by mere centimeters.

"Holy shit!" I flew off the horse back first. I landed on the ground with a hard thump. Fire sprouted in my back as the shock wore off, letting the fiery pain spread.

"Take a seat, Trevor."

My eyes flew to the mirror. My reflection stared right back at me with a sinister smile. It's head lay crooked in an unhealthy angle.

"I think I will pass," I politely declined.

"Fred grows closer. Find the correct seat or die."

"Thanks, that really clears everything up. Mind telling me which horse to choose?"

Silence. Great.

I sighed. This house and it's ridiculous games. Jigsaw would have a field day in here.

"Alright, how about you?" I said choosing a peeling green horse missing its head.

I sat cautiously down on the saddle. I could feel my fingers shaking as I waited for something to happen. I could hear the clink before I saw the blade. The blade came from the pole, slicing open my palm.

"Ahhh!" I screamed, clutching my hand immediately. Blood flowed like a river from the deep gash.

"Have a seat, Trevor."

"How about I ram one of the blades so far up your a—"

"Have a seat, Trevor."

"Dammit," I growled, trying to find something to stop bleeding. Though my shirt was bloodied, it was the only item I had. I tore a small portion from the hem off, wrapping it around the cut. Like hand sanitizer sneaking into an open wound, the tender flesh stung.

I tried again. Blade almost took out my neck. Scraped by with a mere nick.

Again. Millions of small pins sprung out of the horse like a porcupine. Somehow, I escaped with only my ass becoming a pin cushion.

Several painful pins later, I tried again. This time I wasn't alone on the carousel. Fred sat on one of the horses, smiling like he had just won the best prize.

"Look Fred, can I call you Fred? I've had a bit of a rough day. I just want to go home and see my sweet wife. Do you have a woman, Fred? A Miss Demon Clown?" Humor was the only way I could keep my sanity.

"Take a seat, Trevor." Fred sounded like he was gargling rocks.

"I've taken plenty. Please just let me move on," I pleaded.

"I said take a seat!" Fred bellowed.  His eyes flared red.

My cool demeanor was crumbling faster than a cookie. Fear had overridden the controls.

I gulped, looking around the carousel. Nothing looked like a viable option. I would not be able to choose the right horse with all the options.

I was a goner.

Goodbye Allison.

I chose my horse.

Overall Word Count: 11,036